


recognize you by touch alone

by amidnightlove



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Anakin Skywalker, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Obi-Wan Kenobi, Possessive Behavior, Scent Marking, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26895913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidnightlove/pseuds/amidnightlove
Summary: Obi-Wan knew of Anakin’s possessive nature, of the Alpha’s need to touch him and everything around him.He never thought those touches would change throughout the years.Or, five times Anakin scent marked Obi-Wan, and one time Obi-Wan scent marked him.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 28
Kudos: 793
Collections: Obikin Kink Exchange





	recognize you by touch alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luckee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckee/gifts).



> I said I didn't know how to write long one-shots, I guess I just needed to write about my true passion: omega obi-wan.
> 
> luckee, thank you for sharing this passion with me ♥

1.

Anakin had unusual habits.

It was something Obi-Wan discovered early on, just days after they settled on the Temple and Anakin officially became his Padawan.

Obi-Wan attributed it to his past, of knowing only how to be a slave, of having only his mother as family and support.

During those first days, once they were assigned to their new shared quarters, Anakin touched everything. He would ask a lot of _what’s that_? or _why is this…?_ full of eagerness and curiosity.

Obi-Wan indulged him, taking it as a sign that perhaps Anakin would show the same interest in his studies.

But Anakin seemed to simply like touching objects, running his small palm over the walls of his new room. Tugging at Obi-Wan’s robe whenever he had a question.

Obi-Wan knew he had to teach him to control himself, to not let his Padawan be guided by instincts, but allowed the behavior, believing Anakin would mellow out by the time he presented.

Anakin did not.

By fifteen, Anakin was an Alpha and touching the objects in their quarters was his daily routine. Touching Obi-Wan too, grabbing his arm to get his attention or, if Obi-Wan asked him to pass him something, thoroughly rubbing the object before giving it to him.

Anakin scented everything, most especially him, and Obi-Wan had done enough research to understand that Anakin was scent-marking his territory.

A Jedi did not indulge in such primal behavior but no matter how much Obi-Wan told him to stop, Anakin didn’t.

“Padawan,” Obi-Wan said in a calm voice, “what are you doing?”

Anakin froze for a moment, kneeling in front of their tiny couch and with his hands over the grey fabric. He didn’t look particularly guilty.

“Master,” he replied.

The worst thing about his behavior, was that most of the time, Anakin didn’t even realize he was doing it. It wasn’t a conscious thing.

“Well?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

Anakin looked at him and then at the couch.

“It was dirty,” he explained, and palmed it.

“Dirty,” repeated Obi-Wan, “I assure you it wasn’t dirty this morning. What makes you think it can be cleaned with your hands?”

This was a deliberate action, and Obi-Wan frowned. Before leaving for his class, Anakin had brushed past the couch with his hip.

Even Obi-Wan with his suppressants smelled nothing wrong, their rooms always smelling like them. Something… he wouldn’t call safe, but familiar.

“Yes, it can,” Anakin looked away and started vigorously rubbing the leather on one of the sides of the couch, “it... it was…”

He pressed his lips and kept rubbing.

“Padawan… Anakin,” Obi-Wan uncrossed his arms and stood next to him, “what brought this on?”

Anakin ducked his head and closed his hands into fists. Obi-Wan knelt next to him and waited, knowing that given time and space, Anakin would eventually speak.

“Is your rut coming?” Obi-Wan asked gently. His behavior tended to intensify when his cycle approached.

Anakin shook his head and tugged at his braid, scooting closer to him.

“Why do you think the couch is dirty?” he wasn’t judging him. His Padawan was brilliant, but he saw the world very differently from him.

The scars of slavery and poverty were deep, and Obi-Wan tried not to get angry for things he could not control.

Meditation didn’t seem to vanish his territorial tendencies and from what Obi-Wan had gathered from other fellow Knights with Padawans, it was expected that some Alphas would act like that; especially if their Masters were Omegas.

Anakin looked at him, his young and jovial face unusually serious.

“You had a visitor,” he mumbled finally, pressing his hand into the pillow.

Obi-Wan frowned. Yes, Luminara had visited him that morning before leaving for a four-month mission. And she had sat exactly where Anakin was touching.

“Padawan,” said Obi-Wan firmly, “we spoke about this. How you must control yourself. Of—”

“I know,” snapped Anakin and then immediately ducked his head as if waiting for a blow. “I know. You don’t understand, but it smells _wrong_ and I don’t _like_ it.”

Alphas could be territorial, yes. But Anakin was worse than that. He was territorial, and emotional. Not positive traits for a Jedi.

Obi-Wan stood up with a sigh and walked to the window, looking out to the city. He caressed his chin –wondering if he shouldn’t grow a beard— and not for the first time, thought that maybe he wasn’t the perfect Master for the Chosen One.

He had done everything, his best to make Anakin unattached, to make him move past his instincts and impulses and act and think as a Jedi. He had failed. Any other Master would’ve helped him improve, Qui-Gon certainly would’ve known how to handle him.

“Master,” Anakin’s voice sounded closer, and then a shoulder bumped into his. “Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan took a breath. It didn’t help to think like that, he couldn’t change the past. He looked at him, Anakin almost the same height as him.

“I’m sorry,” said Anakin, not looking actually sorry at all, “I’m trying. But it doesn’t smell safe.” He grabbed the hem of Obi-Wan’s sleeve and rubbed his fingers on it, a nervous gesture he had acquired long ago. “I’m sorry.”

Obi-Wan allowed it. The worst Master indeed. He should be stricter, more firm with him.

Others had commented on Anakin’s attitude, how he was always in Obi-Wan’s personal space.

 _Alphas mark people they see as family_ , a holobook had proclaimed, _especially Omegas, their hindbrains cataloguing them as vulnerable_.

Obi-Wan wasn’t weak, he had been on his own for a long time. But he was partial to Anakin, his one and true attachment. Something he knew he needed to overcome.

He looked at the thumb rubbing his tunic.

“I accept your apology,” he said, “but we will meditate together about this later.”

Anakin nodded, tugging the sleeve.

“For now,” Obi-Wan continued, “as punishment, you’ll have to clean your room.”

Anakin groaned. “Master!”

“No complaining,” Obi-Wan warned, but smiled. He never actually punished him, knowing that the word itself could cause Anakin to get lost in painful memories, “when you’re done, we will meditate.”

Anakin groaned again, rolling his eyes. But complied, not before tapping him on the arm lightly.

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan watched him walk away.

And he prayed to the Force that Anakin would improve, or that the Force would give him the patience to deal with his unusual apprentice.

2.

Guarding an Ambassador for one night only, was something that Obi-Wan believed wasn’t the most complicated job, but of course, for a split-second he had forgotten to take Anakin into account.

“So?” Anakin read over his shoulder, a hand almost touching his back, “what’s the assignment?”

Obi-Wan looked at him until Anakin took two steps back, a grin on his face.

They were walking down the corridors of the Temple, and Anakin knew that kind of action was unacceptable. Especially in public.

At nineteen, his Padawan towered over him and his behavior remained unchanged. Perhaps even worsened, now that he was an adult.

He handed Anakin the datapad.

“It’s simple enough,” he replied, “the dinner will take place in one of the Senate’s auditoriums. The Ambassador, Dara Shol from Ryloth, has been targeted for a while, but refused to reject the invitation,” Anakin frowned at the screen, “so the Senate believes the Jedi could offer her the extra protection.”

“As if we have nothing else to do,” Anakin squinted his eyes. “Wait, she’s an Alpha.”

“Padawan, it is not our place to question the Council,” Obi-Wan sighed, “you know this.”

But Anakin always did, always questioned everything. His childish curiosity morphed into almost interrogation. He questioned the Code, questioned Obi-Wan’s teachings, questioned everything.

“She’s an Alpha,” Anakin repeated, his hand curling over the edges of the datapad.

Obi-Wan said nothing until they were on their floor, casually acknowledging other passing Padawans.

“We’ve worked with Alphas before,” he pointed out calmly, “Padawan, if you can’t accept that, I will remove you from the mission. Your thoughts and feeling should not interfere with our job.”

“No!” Anakin opened his eyes wide and nearly bumped into him in his haste. “Master, no. I swear I’ll behave.”

Surprisingly, Anakin _did_ behave.

Always keeping near him, making their shoulders brush but no longer complaining.

Until they stood outside the auditorium, and their assignment appeared. She was tall, and her skin completely pink, her lekkus reaching her hips. She smiled and waved to everyone.

She was attractive, Obi-Wan supposed, the stereotypical Alpha. Before he could approach her and introduce themselves, a sharp tug to his robe made him pause.

“Master, wait.”

Obi-Wan turned, already a chastisement on his tongue, until he took in Anakin’s expression. Anakin looked furious. And worried.

“Padawan,” he warned, but Anakin dragged him to a nearby corridor by the sleeve, pushing him against a wall, his chest heaving. “Anakin!”

Anakin grabbed him by the shoulders and started moving his hands up and down his arms, his actions so fast and rough it nearly hurt Obi-Wan’s skin.

“Anakin, stop,” Obi-Wan pushed him away, completely bewildered. For all his scenting, Anakin had never done this frantic thing, as if not touching him would physically hurt him.

“I’m…I…” Anakin closed his eyes and moved close again, hiding his face on his shoulder, his nose sniffing at the clothes Obi-Wan’s wore. “Master.”

Obi-Wan remained still and used their bond to check whatever Anakin was feeling, but the other side of it was shielded. He only got a vague sense of _shameangerhelplessness_ that made Obi-Wan feel like the worst Jedi Master in history.

Anakin, for whatever reason, _was_ hurting; unable to control his emotions and actions. Perhaps it was his highly elevated midichlorian count, but for whatever reason, Obi-Wan stiffened, realizing he had truly failed him.

If Anakin could not interact with other people, other Alphas, he would never be a proper Jedi, a happy and calmed person. It was Obi-Wan’s job to teach him those things, how to feel emotions and let them go when they served no purpose.

“Master, no,” Anakin mumbled against his shoulder, one hand clinging to an arm and rubbing circles where he had rubbed earlier, as if he knew he had been rough, “you didn’t fail me. And I don’t want another Master.”

For the most part, Anakin could control himself and be a functional human being, but it seemed that when it was just the two of them, he reverted to being clingy and possessive. As if he wanted to protect Obi-Wan from invisible threats.

Obi-Wan heard the chattering of people close, but the corridor remained empty. Anakin almost nuzzling his shoulder. Obi-Wan took a breath and his nose filled with a sour unhappy Alpha scent.

“I should not be a Jedi,” Anakin said and pulled away, staring at him, “I will never be good enough, unattached enough. You’re perfect, _I_ am the problem.”

“Anakin, we have a job to do,” Obi-Wan said, knowing that this was something they needed to discuss but not at that precise moment.

How long had Anakin felt like this? He had, over the years, made off-handed comments about leaving for a life that wasn’t so restrictive to him, but Obi-Wan had believed he only complained about his lessons, his classes and most importantly, Obi-Wan’s guidance.

Anakin liked being a Jedi, liked wielding a lightsaber and showing off his skills while he grinned, waiting for Obi-Wan’s approval over his forms. He was the Chosen One, destined for greatness.

Did Anakin actually want to leave?

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan repeated, “take a deep breath and focus. We are working, now it’s not the time to do this.” Anakin obeyed, yet he tugged at his braid almost nervously. “If you truly feel this way, we will discuss this back at the Temple.”

If Anakin left, Obi-Wan would follow, of course. He was his responsibility, there was so much Anakin still had to learn. So much to learn about the Force.

He wondered if he too was attached to him, to simply not being able to picture a life without his apprentice, his friend.

“Okay,” Anakin replied, more subdued, but still brimming with energy.

For all their differences and arguments, Anakin was his friend, his equal and Obi-Wan had known that for a long time.

He almost wanted to squeeze his shoulder in reassurance but realized it would perhaps only make things worse.

“Let’s do our job,” he said softly.

No one tried to attack the Ambassador, and for the rest of the night, Anakin growled only once when she touched Obi-Wan’s arm for a second.

At that point, Obi-Wan simply took it as a victory.

3.

Jedi were not meant for stealth missions.

Obi-Wan looked at the entrance of the nightclub, the music so loud it made the wall he was leaning on thump. It was night, but the neon multicolor lights that were at the entrance were so bright, they made the street look as if it was morning.

Clearly, _The Frenzy_ was the most popular place in the area, people of all races and genders coming in and out of the entrance. Most of the ones that came out swayed on their feet, or laughed loudly.

He tried to see if he could find a human woman with a turquoise tattoo on her cheek but found nothing.

“She’s not going to be waiting for us at the door, Obi-Wan,” Anakin huffed near his ear, “she’s probably inside already or will arrive later.”

A logical thought. The informer wouldn’t be a good one if she was so easily recognized.

“I was hoping to avoid entering,” admitted Obi-Wan quietly. The clothes he was wearing felt almost uncomfortable, the grey shirt and pant combination tight in unexpected places.

He couldn’t carry his lightsaber, not in a mission like this. Every time his bare arm brushed over his hip and found nothing; he was reminded how dire things were. That he and Anakin had to abandon their post in search for some distant informer who maybe, perhaps, had information about the Separatists.

Anakin made a sound, moving closer to him.

“It will be alright, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and turned to look at him. Anakin’s outfit was black, but his shirt was translucent, showing the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen.

“That’s unnecessary,” Obi-Wan forced his eyes away from that area, tugging at his own shirt. Undercover clothes were not meant for him. “Nothing will happen, and you must…”

“Let go of attachments, yes,” Anakin mumbled, “I know.”

“Do you?” Obi-Wan took a breath and walked in the direction of the club.

If Anakin knew attachments were bad, especially being attached to him, his behavior didn’t reflect it. Now that he was a Knight, he claimed no one could tell him what to do.

Anakin immediately grabbed him by the small of the waist, his face serious.

Obi-Wan didn’t get angry anymore, just accepted that Anakin was like that. The hand was warm and solid, pushing him past people and into the building.

 _The Frenzy_ , despite being in a respectable part of the city, had a reputation of wildness. A place where anyone could fulfil their fantasies.

It had sounded like a sex club instead of a nightclub when Obi-Wan had done the research, but their contact had insisted on the place. They were in no position to deny anything or anyone at that point of the war.

The music nearly shattered his eardrums, the place poorly illuminated and full of dancing people. Extending his senses, he noticed the room was circular, with a second level.

They had walked right into the dancefloor and someone almost stepped on him. Anakin moved the hand from his back to his waist, moving him to a side.

“We’ll never find her!” Anakin almost yelled, pulling him near the bar and navigating between the crowd.

“Trust the Force,” Obi-Wan said. _And no need to scream_ , he added through the bond.

Anakin didn’t reply, only moved him until they nearly bumped into each other. He wanted to protest, but then took in Anakin’s expression and the tension in his shoulders and said nothing.

If Obi-Wan himself thought the place was fairly overwhelming with the sounds and presence of so many people, then for Anakin it must have been worse. He struggled with sensory overload, especially with scent.

Even after being assigned his own troops, the clones who had almost no scent, he had had to learn how to be surrounded by people.

Three small droids were at the bar, taking orders from the people leaning over the counter.

Obi-Wan had two push away a kissing couple to lean on the counter. He found it sticky and quickly withdrew his arm.

Anakin moved next to him, crowding him and almost shielding him with his body. He looked over the throng of people, capable of seeing more than him with his greater height.

“What will you order?” beeped a droid.

“Liquor,” replied Obi-Wan, looking at the second level. It was covered in some sort of dark transparisteel, but he sensed the people inside it.

“The same for me,” said Anakin, his hand digging into his side when an Alpha turned to look for a second too long at them.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan leaned closer while the droids prepared their drinks, faintly hearing glasses clink and liquids being poured. “We need to split up.”

“No,” he almost heard the growl coming out of him, “it’s not necessary.”

 _It’s not about us, Anakin_ , Obi-Wan reminded him, _it’s about our mission. About ending the war._

Anakin’s eyebrows pinched, but he looked torn.

He knew what they needed to do, but there was always a moment where he would complain.

Throughout the years he had stopped expressing his desire to leave the Order, but Obi-Wan knew it was still there, hidden. And he couldn’t help but wonder what held him back, what made him stay when he clearly didn’t want to.

Obi-Wan could no longer tell him that he would be removed from the mission if he couldn’t follow orders. They were truly equals now.

“Fine,” Anakin said finally, as the droid deposited two small glasses next to them. One a brown liquid and the other green. “You stay here, and I’ll make a round.”

He snatched his glass and left, giving him one last lingering look and blending with the crowd.

Obi-Wan quickly downed his drink, the strong liquid burning down his throat. He looked again at the second level.

Something told him those were the private booths, where the wildest part of the club gathered. It had the perfect vantage point of view for them.

There was a flash of light from the corner of his eye, and he turned just in time to see a drink catch fire, ignited by one of the droids. The couple who had ordered it laughed and clapped.

“If you want to go upstairs, you have to pay,” a gust of alcoholic breath nearly hit him on the face. A short humanoid alien with six yellow arms blinked at him, one hand pointing at the ceiling and other two grabbing their glass. “Go to the back,” they pointed at the opposite side of the bar with another arm.

“Thank you,” said Obi-Wan, dodging a fight that had broken out near him. He got the vague sense they were fighting about drinks.

“If you need company…” the alien added, inching closer.

Obi-Wan deposited his empty glass on the counter, sensing a broad and warm hand settle on his hip. He leaned into the touch, recognizing its owner.

Even cut off from the Force, he could recognize Anakin and his touch everywhere. He knew him by the way the fingers almost wrapped around him in a possessive way, knew the almost unconscious manner the thumb made circles into his skin.

Anakin placed himself between him and the alien, giving his back to them.

“Nothing,” he said, with frustration. His translucent shirt had a dark spot, as if someone had dropped their drink on him. “You?”

“The same, but I have an idea.” Obi-Wan motioned with his head and Anakin immediately followed.

Obi-Wan told himself he offered his hand to Anakin just so they wouldn’t get lost amongst the mass of dancing people. He told himself that when Anakin grabbed it in a tight grip and he squeezed it, that it was just to reassure him and lead him to the back of the club.

Obi-Wan was good at lying to himself. He could find Anakin, without needing to touch him. But over the years, he had found he had accustomed to being touched by him.

Anakin often clasped Rex’s shoulder when speaking, often got Ahsoka’s attention by poking her arm, but it was with him that he went further in his touches.

Always an arm over his shoulder, quick squeezes to his side, brief hugs when departing.

No, Obi-Wan no longer got angry. With time, and when Anakin had truly grown as an adult and an Alpha, Obi-Wan had begun to cherish those touches.

The back of the club had a red door and a heavily tattooed human female guarding it. She looked at them and their hands, and smirked.

“The price is double for you two.”

Obi-Wan let him go and waved that same hand in front of her. “You will let us pass without paying.”

Her face softened and she blinked, moving to a side and pushing the door open.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan added, throwing Anakin a look. “What?”

He went first, immediately entering a dark staircase. The sounds of the dancefloor vanished, giving him a temporary relief to his ears.

“It’s… nice when you use the Force like that,” commented Anakin, looking at the steps and following him.

Anakin liked every occasion in which Obi-Wan showed he was anything but the perfect Jedi. Obi-Wan added nothing, climbing up the stairs until he found a thin narrow hallway.

He wasn’t the perfect Jedi and had never claimed to be.

A small droid beeped when it saw them, floating and guiding them through the hallway until it stopped at a black door, emitting a thin ray of light.

Anakin brushed past him and went first, standing at the threshold and looking around.

Obi-Wan had to push him to enter. The room was as dark as the hallway, a single lamp illuminating a small table and an equally small brown couch.

It only had one window, showing most of the level floor they had just left.

Obi-Wan walked until he nearly touched the transparisteel, and looked down. People became shapeless, only figures contorting and dancing in the dark to music he could no longer listen.

He heard Anakin plop down on the couch, but he remained standing. He couldn’t see the other private rooms, only the dancefloor and the bar.

No figure appeared with a turquoise tattoo in her cheek.

“I believe this is a good place to wait,” he said. He could see the entrance of the club if he moved to a side of the window.

“Sure,” replied Anakin, sounding bored.

Obi-Wan turned and found him touching the buttons of some panel that was in the armrest.

A loud beep sounded, and the door opened, the same droid who had led them floating until it was in front of them.

“Anakin…”

“It’s a server droid, I think,” Anakin examined it, poking it with a finger. “We should order something. To blend in.”

“More drinks?” Obi-Wan looked through the window again, “this is secure enough, no need to…”

The droid beeped something at Anakin and Anakin nodded, replying in binary. A light appeared again from the droid, almost scanning them and then it vanished.

Obi-Wan stared.

“I asked for the special,” Anakin shrugged, patting the couch. “We’ll see what it is. Come sit, I can see clearly from here.”

“Fine,” it only took him a few steps to realize that they would not fit, the couch designed for two people, but perhaps not for the intention of using it as such.

Anakin gave him a long look and patted the empty space again.

Obi-Wan sat stiffly, his left thigh almost on top of Anakin’s right. His elbow crashed against a chest and he tried to wiggle for space.

“This is ridiculous,” he said, but Anakin moved too, and somehow they managed to be seated next to each other.

Every part of the left side of his body made contact with Anakin, his legs folded awkwardly and when he was about to apologize for it, a heavy hand settled on his waist, tugging him close.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan swallowed, and stared at him into his eyes.

“I don’t mind,” Anakin said, something dark and almost predatory in his eyes. His handsome features softening the more they looked at each other. “The opposite.”

They were so close that Obi-Wan felt each intake of breath from him. Each rise and fall of his chest. From the Alpha he was nearly sitting on top of.

The position was beyond inappropriate and he could’ve easily waited next to the window, but he didn’t. He took a breath and Anakin’s gaze went to his lips, a thumb digging into his waist.

The door slid open and Obi-Wan recoiled, almost sliding to the floor in his hurry to distance himself.

The droid floated in with a tray and two glasses, one with a purple liquid and the other crystal clear. It left them on the table, along with a tiny bowl of dry nuts.

Anakin murmured something in binary but looked as if he wanted to throttle it.

Deciding that another drink was perhaps appropriate, Obi-Wan grabbed the purple one and sniffed it.

Alcohol, but something else too. It had some bitter scent that seemed to clog his nose, and when he swirled the glass, a tiny puff of purple steam came out.

“No!”

The glass flew from his hand and shattered against the window. Obi-Wan stared at his empty hand and then at the puddle on the dirty floor.

“Anakin,” the bitterness remained in his nose and he almost sneezed. “How many times do I have to te—”

Anakin grabbed at his face with both hands, growling, searching for something in his face. “Did you drink it?”

Anakin shook him and Obi-Wan blew loudly through his nose, nearly headbutting him.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin kept growling and the sound confused him, blending with the aroma of the drink in his nose.

“No,” he mumbled, touching him almost blindly. He couldn’t get the scent out of his mind. “Calm down. No.”

The growl gained volume and then Obi-Wan’s head was pushed against a neck, Anakin’s neck. He sniffed carefully and found that the clear and familiar Alpha scent erased the bitterness.

“It was… Obi-Wan,” Anakin started trembling, hugging him and allowing him to rest his head on his neck, “it was a drug for Omegas. I’ve seen it in Tatooine. Kriff, I should’ve recognized it, should’ve expected it in this place.”

Obi-Wan tried to move away and only managed to lift his head. “For Omegas.”

It explained why he had been drawn to it, why only just a whiff the steam had nearly dazed him.

Anakin nodded, anguish in his face. “It triggers heats.”

Obi-Wan slid a hand until he touched a cheekbone. Anakin almost startled but leaned into the touch.

“Not your fault,” Obi-Wan replied. His hand felt clammy, almost cold against the warm face he was holding. “I’m fine. I should be the one vigilant to our surroundings.”

He drew back and stared at the puddle on the floor, Anakin still holding him with almost desperation. He took a deep breath and centered himself, his mind feeling clear and alert as always.

“I should be better, I protect you,” Anakin clenched his fists so hard Obi-Wan almost heard the bones crack, saw the tendons and muscles tense under his translucent shirt. “I’m your Alpha, it’s my job to protect you.”

Anakin froze, a panicked look crossing his face. He let go of him so fast Obi-Wan almost fell again.

Wondering if the liquid had affected his hearing as well, Obi-Wan took another breath.

“What?” he asked quietly.

He tried to rationalize the words. Surely Anakin meant them as in _I’m your best friend who is an Alpha_ or _the closest Alpha in your life_.

Not _I am your Alpha, your mate._

Anakin looked like he was about to bolt from the room at any moment but then his expression changed into one of resolve, the same one he got when they were under attack and he knew there was no way but forward.

“I’m your Alpha,” he repeated, staring into his eyes. They were still sitting in the cramped couch, everything about them touching. “I want to be your Alpha. I know I’m… I’ve never been subtle with what I want.”

Obi-Wan’s heart started racing. He had known, seen, how Anakin’s innocent scenting had changed. That the way Anakin touched him wasn’t the same way he touched others.

“I know you don’t feel the same,” continued Anakin, pressing his lips into a thin line, “that you simply put up with me and think I’m an idiot who can’t control himself.”

“I never said that,” said Obi-Wan quietly, his heart beating so hard it felt it was going to come out of his chest.

“Me being an idiot doesn’t need to be said.”

“Not that,” Obi-Wan drew his hands into his lap and looked through the window, the informer never appearing. “I never said I didn’t feel the same way.”

Anakin nearly toppled the table with his leg.

“What? Obi-Wan,” he grabbed him by the jaw, the alarm in his face different this time. “Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan swallowed, the hand holding him tight but not hurting him.

“I… am attached to you too,” he confessed, knowing that the place they were in was the worst place to confess their repressed feelings. “I’ll admit I have fantasized once or twice of a life in which I’m not a Jedi, one wh—”

Anakin kissed him, pulling at his face so fast that Obi-Wan ended up draped on top of him. Their teeth nearly clashed, and Obi-Wan quickly realized that neither of them were good kissers.

Whatever trace of the drink vanished from his senses, and the only thing he felt was Anakin. Anakin who kissed him as if he had contained himself for years, whose lips were soft and insistent over his, whose hand started caressing at his beard.

Obi-Wan placed both hands on Anakin’s chest for support, the hard muscle flexing under him. He turned his head slightly to deepen the kiss, earning a growl.

A hand moved until it grabbed him by the backside, encouraging him to straddle him. Obi-Wan did no such thing, he separated and touched his own lips.

They tingled, swollen and sensitive. The realization that he had kissed Anakin hit him in the gut like a punch.

Before he could say anything, Anakin grabbed his hand.

“Don’t. If you want me, and I want you then I don’t want to hear anything about the Code or us being forbidden.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth.

“I would resign from the Order, Obi-Wan,” Anakin’s eyes shone in the dim light, “I’ve stayed for you. But being your mate, being yours is the most important thing for me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Obi-Wan said. Leaving the Order because one didn’t fit in was one thing, but leaving for _him_. “You cannot possibly want me that much.”

He could understand if Anakin said it was a one-time thing, of relieving his body’s needs with him –a familiar and safe Omega— but mating was a serious deal.

“Obi-Wan, I love you,” Anakin leaned until they were almost at a kissing distance. “I have for years, I want your heart, your body, your mind. I am yours,” he added more softly, “if you want me. And you are mine.”

Obi-Wan stood up and walked to the window again, feeling that _he_ was about to bolt instead of Anakin. His gaze wandered all over the dancefloor, not focusing on anyone in particular.

He had kissed Anakin and Anakin had confessed. Confessed his love, not mere attraction.

“Yes,” he said, kicking a shard of glass away and looking at the mess that was on the floor.

He heard Anakin walk up to him, something brushing his back.

“Yes to what?” Anakin whispered in his ear, his nose rubbing at the fine hairs of his neck.

Taking a breath, Obi-Wan moved his neck so the nose could have more access. Anakin wasted no time, tugging him by the waist to hold him against his chest.

“Yes to you, to us.” Obi-Wan remained still, the nose caressing him softly, taking in his scent. It felt right to be in Anakin’s arms, but he couldn’t forget about their reality. “But we’re Jedi, we are at war. We are needed.”

“Is that all that worries you?” a kiss was placed at the base of his nape.

Obi-Wan said nothing, carefully resting a hand over the arms holding him.

“Obi-Wan, if the war ended today, would you mate with me?”

Obi-Wan tensed. A part of him delighted in having Anakin like this, of knowing his feelings were reciprocated. But mating felt too soon, too fast.

“I…”

Anakin made him turn, shaking his head.

“Sorry. I know you’re not ready for that, I don’t want to pressure you.”

Obi-Wan kissed him, using both his hands to do it.

“When the war ends,” he said slowly, “ask me again.”

“It’s that… are you saying…” Anakin smiled, and then frowned, and then smiled again. “We can be together.”

Obi-Wan nodded, knowing that he would be lying to the Jedi by being in a secret relationship but at least he would no longer lie to himself.

“We would have to be careful, of course,” he said, already knowing it would only be difficult in the brief missions they were together. They spent so long separated, sometimes going without communication for weeks. “I know I’m not the ideal Omega or will show you the affection you expect, but I hope that—”

Anakin pushed him against the window, Obi-Wan’s body banging against the cold material. He realized that probably they were now acting just like any other couple in the private sectors.

“Shut up,” Anakin growled, his hands still holding him tight, “I’ll prove it to you, how much I actually like you.”

Obi-Wan held onto him, ignoring the heat those words created.

“When we get back, I…” Anakin looked over his shoulders, trailing off. He straightened, but never let go of him. “She. She’s here.”

Obi-Wan pushed him away, twisting so he could see as well. He squinted his eyes and yes, there was a petite human woman dressed in an orange dress with a turquoise tattoo on her cheek. Some sort of flower.

“Let’s go,” Obi-Wan said, kicking away the rest of shards. He didn’t like the house special in the slightest.

Anakin grabbed him by the hand and pulled him for a final short kiss, a sweet one this time, a soft press against him.

“Now we can go,” he said.

* * *

As soon as they crossed the door of their hotel room, Obi-Wan’s shoulders sagged.

Anakin remained by the door, looking at him.

It was a small room, with two beds and a shared wardrobe. In the only desk which contained a drawer, he hid the thin datacard until he could send the information back to the Temple.

Through a window, only moonlight illuminated the place. They had returned later than anticipated, the informant wanting to speak to them before relaying the information.

“The mission was a success,” Obi-Wan said, sensing their lightsabers hidden under a loose panel of the refresher. The hotel was safe, but they could never be safe enough.

“Come here.”

Obi-Wan paused, but complied. Anakin was barely visible in the darkness, a dark figure leaning on the door.

He had ignored the looks Anakin had given him during the duration of the meeting, knowing what waited for him when they were alone.

He stopped a few paces away but a finger pulled at him by the sleeve.

“Turn.”

“If you think that I’ll obey you just because you’re…” Obi-Wan turned and waited.

“I’m what?” Anakin asked, in a low husky voice. The finger traced his spine, its length.

He couldn’t say it. It still felt fragile, surreal what they had done. He had half-expected Anakin to say that it was a mistake, that what had happened earlier had to remain in the club, but the way the fingers started drawing circles in his back told him something different.

“You are…” Obi-Wan almost hesitated, “you are…”

No, he couldn’t say it, and his heart sped up when two very solid hands tugged at the hem of his shirt.

“Do you know what you smell like?” asked Anakin instead, not pressuring him or demanding the words.

“Like myself,” Obi-Wan said, knowing his own scent was a mixture of suppressants and clean soap. Nothing that could catch anyone’s attention.

The hands dipped under, touching his bare skin.

“No. You smell like other people.”

“That is normal,” Obi-Wan replied, looking at the shaft of light entering through the window. He had walked past many people that night.

“It’s not,” Anakin growled, and the sound was more menacing, “you should smell like me.”

Obi-Wan supposed that at some level, he did smell like Anakin. Anakin’s residual scent on his clothes had comforted him more than once in some nights where all he found was death and loss, it was the scent of home and safety.

“Obi-Wan,” the touch on his skin was gone and there was a tug on the collar of his shirt. “Can I scent you?”

“You always do that,” he wanted to turn and take in Anakin’s expression.

“This is different. If you’re mine, I need…” a warm puff of breath hit him on the neck and Obi-Wan shivered. “This won’t be the scenting I always do.”

He knew what Anakin wanted, the kind of touch and scenting that only couples did. One that would require him to bare his body, to reveal his soft and vulnerable spots for the Alpha’s perusal.

He trusted Anakin and knew that the Alpha would never touch him with anything but kindness. That he wasn’t the typical Alpha who thought of Omegas as things to breed and keep silent.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan whispered. “You can scent me. But no sex,” he blinked, the moonlight drawing strange patterns on the floor.

He hadn’t truly begun to process the kiss, the fact that he, in the last past hours, had entered in a relationship with Anakin.

“No sex,” Anakin agreed, without getting angry or pushing him.

And then Anakin grabbed him by the collar and tore his shirt apart with his bare hands.

The sound of fabric ripping echoed in the room and Obi-Wan went very still.

“You didn’t,” Obi-Wan said but then he looked down at his naked torso, and yes, Anakin had literally ripped him out of his clothes.

“I did,” replied Anakin proudly and walked around him until they faced each other. He waved two grey pieces of fabric in the air.

“Anakin, that’s beyond uncivilized.”

He had not liked his uncover clothes, but to tear them apart? And the way Anakin had done it, with his hands.

It was a display of strength, of his Alpha status and Obi-Wan responded to it; desire building at the base of his spine.

“Don’t care,” replied Anakin and knelt in front of him, his expression open and earnest.

Obi-Wan’s mouth went dry. Anakin had knelt right between his legs, his head near his lap.

“Shoes,” Anakin smirked as if he knew what Obi-Wan was thinking. “Unless you want me to rip them apart too.”

Quickly lifting a foot, Obi-Wan tried to control himself.

It had been himself who had said no sex, and for a reason.

When he was barefooted on the cool tiles, Anakin’s hands went to the zipper of his tight pants.

“Anakin,” said Obi-Wan weakly. Anakin was doing nothing, simply looking at him, his fingers barely grazing his naked torso.

“Relax,” murmured Anakin, and then he pulled, tearing the fabric of the pants apart. He had to tug several times until he could destroy the whole thing.

Obi-Wan stood in only his underwear, resisting the urge to cross his arms.

He told himself he had nothing to hide, and when he saw the way Anakin looked at his half-naked body, he was gifted with something he had seen in Anakin’s eyes many times, but only now could identify.

Lust. Anakin pushed away the fabrics, eyes never wavering from his lap, his middle, his thighs.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said and almost wanted to say he regretted the no sex thing.

Anakin quickly pulled at his own clothes, his arm muscles flexing in his hurry to be as naked as he was.

When he rose, Obi-Wan knew the same lust was reflected in his eyes. Because now, he was allowed to look at him.

The hard chest he had been veiled all night with the translucent shirt was now displayed for him, the sharp and straight edges of his abdomen.

Anakin purposely strode to stand only a step away from him and bared his neck.

Obi-Wan almost whined. He knew what the gesture meant, even if he had never been with an Alpha, even with his suppressants.

An invitation to bite, to mate. One that Alphas rarely did, only Omegas and some Betas carrying the mating bite.

“Obi-Wan,” said Anakin so softly he barely heard it. His eyes zeroed in the mating gland on Anakin’s neck that called for him.

“Yes,” he said, blinking and blinking. “You… you wanted to scent me.”

Nodding, Anakin offered his mechanical hand and Obi-Wan took it, the metal warm and tender with his flesh and bone limb.

He guided him to one of the beds, the one that he used and let him go. Obi-Wan sat at the edge, hands on his lap.

“On your back,” said Anakin softly.

Heart hammering, Obi-Wan climbed onto the bed and laid in it. He opened his legs slightly and left his arms outstretched.

The bed creaked under his weight and movements, the sheet rough on his skin. He had not booked the place with the intention of sleeping on the best mattress possible, knowing that they would barely use them. Until now.

When Anakin crawled after him, the bed shook with such strength that Obi-Wan thought it would give in under their combined weights.

Anakin caged him with his arms, aligning their faces until they shared the same breath.

They had never been this close, and Obi-Wan realized that it was one thing to think of Anakin and him in romantic terms in his own brain than having him on top of him.

“Hey,” said Anakin quietly, the shimmering fire in his eyes not fading.

 _You’re tense_ , he sent through the bond. He rubbed their noses together softly.

“I’ve never been in a situation like this,” replied Obi-Wan, the sweet gesture relaxing him a fraction.

 _I know_ , replied Anakin almost triumphantly. And kissed him again.

The kissed forced his head to sink into the pillow, to crane his neck and wiggle in the tiny bed. Kissing him on a bed when they were both half-naked instead of standing in a dirty nightclub was different.

When Anakin’s tongue touched his, Obi-Wan trembled. Aware of each part of his body that rubbed the one on top of his.

It was more intimate like this, knowing no one would interrupt them. Knowing he had Anakin’s full attention. That Anakin wanted him.

His knee shifted and he touched a half-hard cock. Obi-Wan bit back a moan and repeated to himself what he had said to him earlier. If he changed his mind, he was more than reassured than Anakin would accept his offer to take things further.

Anakin kept the kisses simple, moving to kiss his cheek, his beard, his nose.

“Is this part of the scenting?” whispered Obi-Wan, touching a muscled bicep. Speaking at a higher volume felt wrong.

A tongue started licking at the line of his hair, almost as if Anakin wanted to groom him with his tongue.

It was a warm and wet touch, that travelled across his body, fueling the desire that had begun to build earlier.

He never got a reply, and then Anakin was licking at the rest of his face. Tiny flicks of his tongue, covering him with his saliva.

It was _beyond_ uncivilized, but it was also Anakin who was doing it. The same Anakin who had strange habits, the same Anakin he had agreed to be in a relationship with.

Obi-Wan stretched his neck, head resting to a side when the tongue moved past his face. The action earned a growl, a quiet pleased rumble.

Anakin’s lips closed over his mating gland and Obi-Wan moaned, instinctively bucking his hips up.

His hips were pinned into place, the tongue licking the place it had kissed.

 _My beautiful Omega,_ Anakin sent. _I will kiss you every day in this sacred place._

The words touched him and Obi-Wan’s mind began to swirl with a mixture of arousal and affection.

Anakin descended, and when he reached his collarbone, he began to suck at the same time his hands moved up and down his sides.

Obi-Wan relaxed against the bed, accepting the touching and kissing. At least Anakin was being considerate and not marking him in a visible place.

Anakin kissed him on his chest, his nipples. Nuzzled at his arms, gently licking the skin.

He spent more time on his stomach, nibbling the soft and delicate skin there. He pressed a reverent kiss on Obi-Wan’s lower stomach and by the time Obi-Wan understood why he had done it, he was too comfortable and safe to get anxious about it.

It was only natural that Anakin would want not just a mate, but pups too.

“Anakin,” he mumbled, his skin tingling with the ghost of the touches.

Mercifully, Anakin ignored his lap altogether –ignored the way both of them were half-hard— and sat on the bed to massage his thighs and legs.

“You smell better now,” he commented, poking at his calves. “More like me.”

Obi-Wan did notice it, almost a physical layer of Anakin’s scent on him.

“Turn around,” Anakin added.

The bed creaked again, and Obi-Wan turned slowly, resting his face on his arms.

Immediately, his backside was squeezed.

He rolled his eyes. “Really?”

Anakin laughed quietly, massaging the round and soft flesh he held.

“What? I like it,” he squeezed harder. “That’s where my cock will go someday.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and released it, hoping that Anakin could not smell the way those words and what they had been doing had made some slick appear.

“Someday,” he agreed, breathing enough to calm his body’s reaction.

Anakin growled and his hands went higher to caress Obi-Wan’s back, nails raking back and forth.

“When you fantasized of not being a Jedi,” Anakin’s mouth kissed him on the nape of his neck, “what did you dream of?”

His fantasies, his moments of weakness as he called them. Obi-Wan hesitated, and Anakin shifted until he was laying on top of him, growling at his neck.

“I dreamt of you,” he replied in a whisper, a hand covering his until he interlocked their fingers, “of no more war, or fighting. Of us living together.”

“Where?” Anakin’s voice was muffled, and he started licking the mating gland, giving him full body shudders.

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan had never allowed himself to think of those things, things that were not for him. Things for normal Omegas, not him. He didn’t look like an Omega; he didn’t act like one.

“We can think of that later,” Anakin sucked a love bite near his mating gland and knew Obi-Wan that mark would not be easily hidden. “I dreamt of you too,” he added, almost mumbling, “dreamt of you being my mate and having my pups.”

He stopped licking and almost tensed, waiting for his reaction.

Obi-Wan snuggled closer to him, looking at their hands.

“I never thought of my own children,” he said softly. He had, at points, seen families during missions and wondered briefly what it would be like to go down that path. “Not really, no.”

But having them with Anakin. He could now dream of that, if he wanted. Not just being with Anakin as mates, but as parents, as a family.

He had always considered Anakin as family, but this was different. This was every hidden dream he had ever had, now being offered to become true.

“You would be a great mom,” Anakin said, planting small kisses on his neck, “the best. If you want them, I would be more than willing to give them to you.”

He pushed his erection into the curve of his backside for emphasis.

“You’ve made that clear,” Obi-Wan scoffed, but smiled too. “Is the scenting over?”

Anakin had not moved anymore, simply content with covering him with his body and nuzzling at his neck where his scent was stronger.

“For tonight, yes,” Anakin gave a small yawn, and hid his face on the crook of his neck, wiggling slightly. “I’ll have to do this every day.”

“Every day?” Obi-Wan wiggled too, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep when it became obvious Anakin wasn’t going to move.

The bed was tiny and hard, but the body covering him was warm and safe, so Obi-Wan allowed himself to get ready to sleep too.

“Every day,” promised Anakin, and gave him one final kiss on his neck.

4.

They had expected the news of the end of the war to come with a celebration.

More specifically, Obi-Wan had expected Anakin to drop to his knees as soon as they heard the news and ask him to officially become mates.

Instead, they attended a funeral.

The circular crypt located at the Jedi Temple was cold, even though they all huddled together around the body.

Obi-Wan drew the hood of his robe closer, his arm brushing against Anakin’s, the Alpha shaking with his untamed fury and sadness.

Mace Windu’s body was covered by a long fabric, waiting to be lowered into the lower coffin chamber.

The public claimed him a hero; the selfless Jedi who had sacrificed his life to stop the now former Chancellor, who had planned nothing good for the future of the galaxy.

The Jedi, those who were his friends and colleagues, didn’t use the word hero. His loss would be felt, naturally, but Mace had given his life to rid the galaxy of the Sith Lord they had been searching for during years.

No one said anything, everyone quietly paying their respects.

 _Anakin_ , Obi-Wan sent through the bond. _Breathe, please._

The Alpha’s feelings weren’t the only ones unleashed in the place, but his were the most intense. Other Jedi, like Obi-Wan, allowed themselves to feel the loss and hurt and then release it. Not Anakin.

It had been him, after all, who had been friends with the Chancellor.

Him who should’ve known and detect that his friend was a Sith, someone who was grooming him to the Dark Side.

Or that was how Anakin had explained it in the brief moment he decided to talk about how he felt.

Mace’s body was lowered, the chamber sealing after him.

Anakin spun on his heel and left, the hood of his black robe hiding his face.

Obi-Wan looked at him go, at the tense shoulders. He had the same reaction he had when Ahsoka left; to go after him and console him.

When he exchanged glances when Yoda, he knew that the Grandmaster knew what he was thinking.

He looked at where the body used to be and realized that now there was an empty spot in the Council. That in some other world, that spot would’ve undoubtedly been for Anakin.

 _Not just one spot_ , Obi-Wan thought, taking a deep breath, _two spots._

He started walking after him, knowing that the rest of the Council he was part of was seeing him and knowing exactly what he was doing, but not caring much.

He had decided to leave not long ago, and they would find out about his decision sooner rather than later.

The Temple was oddly quiet, despite being early morning. Everyone knew by now of what had happened, of how close the Jedi had been to disappear forever.

It was a day for reflection, for meditating.

Obi-Wan had already done all those things, yet the knot of emotions remained. The war was over yes, but at a steep price. Things would not be the same.

He found Anakin pacing in their rooms, his Force signature clouded and thick with his own turbulent emotions. He paced around the room, tugging at his hair.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan removed his robe and left it on the back of the chair. “Anakin.”

Only a tiny beam of sun entered in the room, casting Anakin in shadows.

The Alpha made a strange sound and banged his forehead against a wall, closing his eyes.

“Anakin, no,” Obi-Wan pulled him away, touching at his head, “no hurting yourself. Talk to me.”

Even since their relationship had begun three weeks ago, Obi-Wan had been pleasantly surprised by how much Anakin liked to talk. How he opened up to him without prompting. All those years in which Anakin had kept his emotions to himself had vanished.

“It’s my fault,” Anakin said, keeping his eyes closed but leaning into the touch, “what’s the point of me being the Chosen One? I didn’t kill any Sith, Mace is dead, and the war didn’t end because of me.”

Obi-Wan tugged at him, leading him to the couch. As soon as he sat, Anakin pulled him into his lap, his nose seeking his neck.

“Anakin, no one expected you to single-handedly end the war,” Obi-Wan squeezed their hands, “Mace decided to give his life. You know how I feel about the prophecy. And…” he hesitated, the nose moving up and down his throat, “it’s my fault for not protecting you better. For letting you go with the Chancellor when—”

“No,” Anakin pressed back at their hands, lifting his head to frown at him. His eyes were glassy, but his anger seemed to be bigger than his sadness. “Shut up. You’re not to blame.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth.

“No. Stop. This isn’t…” Anakin heaved a breath, squeezing his eyes shut until his Force signature placated, “this isn’t how I wanted things to go.”

“That’s an understatement,” Obi-Wan had worked on his guilt for a long time, not just when the news of both deaths had reached. It had been so easy, when he was younger, to say yes to the Chancellor and let Anakin go with him.

The Council had almost encouraged it, seeing nothing wrong with it, that Anakin with his power would attract some attention.

And Obi-Wan had allowed it, despite the queasiness saying yes brought.

“No,” Anakin blew a long breath, “no. You said… when the war ended,” he let go of him to tug at his long blond curls, “you said I could ask again.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan blinked. “Yes, I did. I… I was waiting actually,” he admitted, “despite everything that happened…”

The knot of emotions in his stomach flared. The guilt of allowing himself to dream of a future when so many things had gone wrong.

Anakin looked at him and seemed to realize something. He quickly pulled him for a short kiss.

“I had everything prepared,” he stood up and Obi-Wan tried to imitate him, “no, wait. I want to do this right.”

“I don’t believe there is a right or wrong way of asking a simple question,” Obi-Wan settled again, no longer surprised by how fast Anakin changed his moods.

“Wait,” repeated Anakin and took off almost running, hastily pulling away at his robe.

Obi-Wan’s heart started beating faster. After all those weeks in which they had not seen each other, after they had defeated Grievous and Anakin had given him that triumphant look…

“Mated,” Obi-Wan murmured the word to the empty room, hearing Anakin rummage in his own room.

He wouldn’t be mated immediately, the same way that he hadn’t allowed things to progress further than kisses and scenting. Not that they had had the time when things had gone even worse at the front.

A mated Omega. Not a Jedi. Anakin’s mate.

A life he had rarely permitted himself to dream of, a life that now awaited.

“Come to the kitchen,” Anakin called, the nervousness in his voice betraying the importance of what they were about to do.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan smoothed his clothes and walked.

Anakin was standing next to the small wooden table of their kitchen, nearly vibrating with untapped energy. The kitchen wasn’t very big or meant for fancy meals, so they only had a table and two chairs.

Atop the table, there were two small packages, both containing some white powder. Next to them, there was a folded thick blue blanket.

Obi-Wan thought carefully, but nothing came up when he tried to understand what those objects had to do with an engagement.

“You… want me to cook?”

“Yes. No,” Anakin walked to stand next to him, giving a wobbly smile. “Obi-Wan. This is silly, but I wanted to do a tradition from Tatooine. Something that I’ve seen in my childhood.”

“Then I do not think it’s silly,” Obi-Wan grabbed him by the jaw, rubbing his thumb on a sharp cheek. Anakin beamed. “Explain it to me.”

Anakin nodded, grabbing him by the waist.

“I give you the ingredients and you cook. It proves that I can provide for you and that you can transform them into things for us.” He made a pause. “For us and our pups, our family.”

“And the blanket?” Obi-Wan ignored how the word _pups_ almost left him breathless.

“A gift, a symbol of protection. It has to cover you while you cook.”

Obi-Wan tried to imagine the Omegas and some Betas of Tatooine following the traditions. It made sense that Anakin had brought simple ingredients, that the tradition would be something that any couple could do without spending many credits.

Anakin took a step back, releasing him when he noticed he had said nothing.

“I told you, it’s something old and traditionalist,” Anakin pressed his lips together, “I don’t want you chained to our kitchen or I think you’re less.”

“I know,” replied Obi-Wan, his voice steady. He lifted a hand to touch the soft fabric of the blanket.

His fingers sank into it, the long strands brushing him. It _did_ make him want to use it as a robe.

“I’ll do it,” he added, looking over his shoulders. Anakin looked shocked. Had he expected to say no?

“It’s important for you,” Obi-Wan continued and lifted the blanket, turning to deposit it in Anakin’s arms. “If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Please, put it on me.”

Anakin made a sound -half growl, half purr- and nodded, extending the blanket until it reached the floor. He shook it and then placed it over Obi-Wan’s shoulders and head as if it were a robe.

Anakin’s scent now seemed to come from everywhere. It was as if he was enveloped by it; the strong and reassuring Alpha scent that Anakin usually rubbed on him with his hand or mouth.

Obi-Wan inhaled deeply, the blue strands rubbing his face.

“Good?” Anakin asked, adjusting it on his shoulders.

“Indeed,” Obi-Wan felt safe, warm. It was heavy, but its weight was comforting. He wiggled his arms free and grabbed the packages, remembering a simple recipe for a flatbread that Anakin always ordered when they went out.

He knew he looked silly with the blanket like that, but didn’t care.

Anakin smiled at him, tugging the blanket even tighter around him. “I’ll wait by the couch.”

“Not allowed to participate?” Obi-Wan moved carefully around the table, searching for the few utensils they had.

“Nope,” he felt Anakin’s gaze follow him, “the Alpha waits for the food, you’re supposed to bring it to me. Then we eat it and think if we’re compatible or not, if we accept each other.”

Obi-Wan knew he would accept him even if Anakin brought him the worst foods, that Anakin wanted him regardless of whether he could cook or not.

He shook the packages. “I have much to ponder. We’ll see what kind of Alpha you are.”

Anakin stood straighter, lifting his chin. Accepting the challenge.

“I don’t have to taste your food to you know we’re compatible. It was just…”

“I know, Anakin,” Obi-Wan cleared the table and opened the crinkly packages. “Wait for me, then.”

“I always have,” was the soft answer, and Anakin’s footsteps faded away from the kitchen.

_I always have._

Obi-Wan looked at the ingredients, unexpectedly warmed by the words. By what he was doing. Getting engaged.

He decided at that moment, that the tradition might have been old but he was a modern Omega, so he grabbed the battered datapad he always left near the kettle when he wanted to read the news and have his tea.

The screen was cracked, but it worked. He quickly found the recipe he wanted and got to work.

He mixed all the dry ingredients until his forearms got covered in a thin layer of white. He had never cooked something like this, they rarely ate at the Temple or cooked, but he tried his hardest.

He let the dough rest and meticulously wiped everything, including some parts of the blanket.

When he looked at the entrance of the kitchen, he half-hoped to see Anakin there, watching him or trying to scent him. But his Alpha wasn’t. 

His Alpha.

His Alpha trusted that he could feed them.

Obi-Wan divided the dough into smaller parts and flattened them, quickly placing them on the pan and cooking each side until the edges of the bread turned crispy.

The small kitchen was soon full of a pleasant aroma, and Obi-Wan thanked the Force that it wasn’t full of smoke instead.

He only made five, and was surprised to find he had not burned them. He piled them all in a plate and hobbled back to the couch, adjusting the blanket over his head.

As promised, Anakin was waiting for him, smiling when he saw him. He stood up from the couch and looked at the plate.

“I tried my best,” Obi-Wan looked at the food, it seemed fine but perhaps the flavor wasn’t the best. Anakin said nothing, only staring at it. Perhaps he should’ve tasted it?

“I know. Mom used to make these. How did you know?” Anakin gave him a peck and smiled again, guiding him by the waist to an empty spot on the floor.

“I did not, I simply remembered that you liked them,” Obi-Wan handed him the plate and stared, hoping the floor wasn’t dirty.

Anakin had no problems with simply sitting on it, looking at him expectantly. Obi-Wan dropped to his knees next to him and unwrapped himself, finding a corner of the blanket and using it to cover Anakin’s shoulders and head.

Now they were both enveloped with it, as if they were under a soft blue tent. And now, the scent not only came from the fabric itself, but from the heated body pressed up against him.

Anakin made the plate clatter with the haste he threw it to the floor to have his hands free and kiss him.

He tugged him by the back of the neck, smashing their lips together so fast and hard that it was obvious to Obi-Wan that they hadn’t improved their kissing skills despite all their kissing they had done.

Obi-Wan barely had a mind to push the plate away, sinking into the kiss, into the wet and soft lips that kept pressing into him.

They would’ve continued kissing, but Obi-Wan elbowed one side of their makeshift tent and nearly fell when the fabric moved.

“We should… eat,” he said, adjusting the blanket over their heads again.

“Yeah,” Anakin licked his lips as if he wanted to keep kissing him instead. “Yes, this is… important.”

Anakin removed his gloves, grabbing one steamy flatbread with his organic hand. It barely fit in his palm, and he snapped it into two even pieces.

“Obi-Wan,” he said quietly, and offered one to him, “I... I don’t know what to say, I waited so long to have you like this, to ask you to be my mate.”

Obi-Wan clutched the hot bread, sniffing it. At least it looked and smelled good.

“I don’t expect any grand gesture, Anakin,” he replied softly, “I never expected this, this gift,” he ran a hand down the blue wall shielding them, “I don’t have anything for you, I didn’t prepare as you did.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Anakin shifted on his knees until they faced each other, grabbing his free hand. “I owe you everything, Obi-Wan. I’m the one who should bring you stuff, give you a comfortable life.”

“My life is already good because you’re in it,” Obi-Wan squeezed the hand holding him, wondering when he had gotten so emotional. Privately, he resolved to get a gift for Anakin too. “I don’t need these things, just you.”

Anakin blinked back tears and extended his piece of bread to Obi-Wan’s lips, Obi-Wan imitating him.

“Is this part of the tradition?” Obi-Wan kept his voice low, not wanting to disturb the peace of the moment.

“Yes, but we can also create our new traditions.”

“I would like that,” replied Obi-Wan and bit into the food that was offered at the same time Anakin did.

The bread was thin and hard, but when he bit into it, it quickly broke into smaller pieces. It didn’t taste like much, but at least it was palatable.

Anakin wolfed down his piece in seconds, chewing loudly.

“It almost tastes like the one I used to eat,” he mumbled, his mouth full of crumbs.

Obi-Wan finished his slowly, using a thumb to brush away the crumbs on Anakin’s mouth.

“So I’m accepted Alpha?” he asked in a teasing voice.

Anakin nodded, leaning into his touch. Obi-Wan shifted his hand until he was cradling Anakin’s right side, gently touching the scar over his eye.

“Obi-Wan, you could cook the most horribly burnt food ever and I would still accept you. I love you,” there were tears in his blue eyes again, “would you do me the honor of being my mate? I want to wake up every day next to you, knot you day and night, make you taste the best food,” he closed his eyes for a long second, “and if you’d do me the extra honor, give you healthy pups.”

Swallowing the lump on this throat, Obi-Wan leaned until he was kissing him, a short peck.

“Yes,” he murmured against his lips, “I will be your mate.”

He slid closer until Anakin’s arm was around him, his thumb getting wet with Anakin’s silent tears. He wanted to say I love you back, but the words got stuck in his throat. But the way Anakin held him and looked at him said he didn’t need to say them out loud, that the message was loud and clear.

A nose pushed away the collar of his shirt, until Anakin kissed him on his still unmarred mating gland.

“I’m guessing you don’t want a long engagement,” Obi-Wan exposed his throat, blindly grabbing more flatbread and parting it in half.

“No,” mumbled Anakin on his neck, giving a gentle lick over the sensitive place that would soon be bitten by him. “I want you now. In Tatooine we would be considered mated.”

“Even without a bite?” Obi-Wan took a smaller piece and offered it.

Anakin shifted his head and opened his mouth, sucking at his fingers for no reason. His tongue almost wrapped itself around Obi-Wan’s fingers, cleaning away the crumbs.

“Yes,” he let out a pleased rumble as he ate, “you cooked, I accepted it. You keep feeding me,” he tugged him even closer until their shoulders rubbed, “I am your Alpha now, bite or not.”

Obi-Wan adjusted the blanket, dipping his head to nuzzle at Anakin’s neck in return.

His Alpha. Engaged. He was kneeling on the floor of their rooms at the Temple, and he had just gotten engaged to Anakin not only a day after the galaxy had been through such a shock.

“I’ve always been your Alpha, but now you’re my responsibility,” Anakin continued, interlocking their free hands, “I take care of you.”

“We take care of each other, as usual,” replied Obi-Wan, staring at their hands.

He had expected a ring but was glad that Anakin had decided to do this tradition. They were not a normal couple and naturally, their engagement would not be a normal one.

Anakin bumped him on the cheek with his nose and laughed, a joyous sound that made Obi-Wan smile.

“My mate,” he beamed, “my mate, my mate, my Omega.”

Obi-Wan shifted until he was straddling him. The blanket kept covering them, shielding them from the outside world.

Anakin hugged him, nuzzling at his neck almost desperately.

The words would not come out, but Obi-Wan heard them in his heart. _Yours, your mate, your Omega_.

He placed a hand between their chests until he touched Anakin’s heart.

“I will give you a present,” he promised, already his mind whirling with endless possibilities. Anakin would treasure anything, having grown up with nothing, but he wanted it to be special, memorable.

A true engagement gift.

Anakin growled, tugging him closer. “You are more than enough.” He slid a hand to pat Obi-Wan’s backside.

Obi-Wan laughed, a vague idea forming in his mind.

“What do you say, fiancé,” he whispered in Anakin’s ear, and wondered if it was fine to be this happy when so many things had gone wrong, “if you do one those scentings you like,” he kissed him on his pulse point, “since I don’t have a bite…”

Anakin grabbed him by the back of the thighs and stood up so suddenly the blanket fell from their shoulders. Obi-Wan clung to him with every limb, using the Force to push the plate with food away.

“Yes,” Anakin growled, fixing his grip. It was the first time that Obi-Wan had actively ask for it, sought his touch in that way. “I won’t leave a single piece of your skin untouched.”

A small shiver of anticipation ran down Obi-Wan’s spine. There would be no sex, but they were engaged now, and the scenting would most likely be more intense than usual.

“I will hold you to that,” he whispered in his ear.

5.

When his datapad chimed with a message from the Halls of Healings, Obi-Wan ignored it.

They had believed, perhaps naively so, that the war ending meant no more off-world missions, that everyone would immediately surrender.

Instead, Anakin was sent away for one final mission.

He had complained during those five long hours in which he had had time to pack. But at least, he had said, they were not sending Obi-Wan away.

His protectiveness towards his now mate had increased, and he mentioned every day how he wanted to get away from it all.

Obi-Wan remained at the Temple and now dealt with traumatized Padawans who had seen and done too much violence.

When the message came again, he ignored it.

He had never, in his over twenty years of using suppressants, forgotten the date when he had to renew the biannual shot. He wasn’t the kind to forget, especially not something as important as that.

Only twice he had been almost too late to get them, when he had been far away from the Temple and huddling on muddy trenches. Even then, he had been consoled with the fact that even if he didn’t renew them, the suppressants would work for two more weeks.

The final message was more insistent, his datapad chiming all day. The final date had come, and with him being at the Temple, he had no excuse to ignore it.

The day his suppressants wore off, was also the same day Anakin was supposed to return.

Obi-Wan sniffed at his own shirt, already his own scent stronger. He no longer smelled muted, or something distant. Didn’t smell _wrong_ , as Anakin called it.

He walked calmly to the Halls of Healings, and for the first time since presenting, he knew he smelled like himself. And a hint of Anakin too.

He attracted some looks, but no one questioned why Obi-Wan’s scent had changed. The same way they had not questioned why a month ago –just a day after their engagement— he had respectfully stepped down from his position at the Council.

Everyone was traumatized in some degree, so his behavior wasn’t overly questioned. Especially by his now ex-fellows at the Council, that had stared at him with knowing eyes. As if they knew exactly why he was taking a step back.

“Master Kenobi,” Vokara Che stared at him almost with reproach, “you’ve finally decided to come.”

“I have,” Obi-Wan dipped his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “I apologize, but I wanted to speak to you in person, and I’ve been rather busy.”

“We all have,” she motioned to one of the thin beds that lined the room. The place was deserted, but he felt other people nearby in various degrees of pain. “You can tell me while I give you your shot.”

“Ah, Healer Che, that will not be necessary,” his palms started sweating, the enormity of what he was doing crashing down on him. “I no longer will use suppressants.”

She blinked, her lekkus twitching slightly.

“I see,” she replied eventually. He didn’t feel any judgement coming from her. “I will update your medical file in that case.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan tried to discreetly wipe his hands on his shirt.

Her expression changed to something softer.

“Obi-Wan, from now on, your heat can appear at any moment. Your scent will change, even now I can smell you,” she explained, as if he wasn’t aware of those things, “you’ll be able to carry, to experience regular heats.”

“I know,” he replied. He counted on it, actually. “Thank you.”

Did she know why he had made that choice? Did everyone know?

She made a face that was almost a smile. “May the Force be with you, then,” she said, “may it accompany you in whatever you choose to do.”

He almost ran out of the place, and absolutely had to wipe his hands and meditate for a few minutes when he was back at their rooms.

His datapad chimed one last time, with a message from Anakin, telling him he was arriving in less than two standard hours.

Obi-Wan took one final deep breath and got to work.

He grabbed the blue blanket, the engagement blanket as he called it, and placed it on his bed. He added pillows, more sheets, more blankets until he had a decent pile. He kneaded them, and the more he touched them and scented them with his hands, the more his anxiety lessened.

It felt right to be making a nest, to be waiting for his Alpha.

He had rarely created nests, but he liked his final product. A comfy and vaguely circular place that was spacious enough for him and Anakin.

Dimming the lights, he undressed. But at the last minute grabbed an oversized brown tunic, because he felt too silly being completely naked while he waited. It had short sleeves, but the hem reached past his knees.

Obi-Wan touched the bond, sensing Anakin come closer, coming home to him.

He sat at the edge of the bed and waited.

It didn’t take long until a wave of joy and excitement hit his mental barriers.

 _Obi-Wan, where are you?_ Anakin sounded happy but vaguely disappointed. _Why aren’t you waiting for me?_

 _I am_ , replied Obi-Wan calmly, his stomach fluttering with nerves. _In our rooms._

He had entertained the idea of waiting for him at the hangar, but after what he had planned and the fact that they had not seen each other in over a week, Obi-Wan decided that the best course of action was to give Anakin his engagement gift in private.

Anakin didn’t reply, and Obi-Wan smiled when he sensed him run.

He stood up from the bed and walked to the entrance of their rooms, realizing that his nerves were not due to fear or uncertainty, but because he was eager.

He smoothed down his tunic, centering himself. He didn’t need to call on the Force to know he was making the right choice.

The door slid open and Anakin entered so fast he nearly slipped, his bag banging on the wall. His black clothes looked rumpled, dirty, as if he hadn’t taken good care of himself while they were apart.

Obi-Wan took an instinctive step back so he wouldn’t trip.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin began to say and then he stopped, his eyes going wide as plates when he saw his state of undress. “You…”

His bag fell with a heavy thud to the floor when he inhaled.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan lifted his chin, “welcome back.”

Anakin pushed him so fast against the wall, that this time Obi-Wan did trip and would’ve fallen except that Anakin pinned him to the wall, his nose going straight for his neck.

A low growl started from Anakin’s throat, his teeth almost sinking into the vulnerable parts of Obi-Wan’s neck.

“What did you…” Anakin’s growl changed into a whimper for a second, “you smell different, you smell right.”

Resisting the urge to wrap his leg around Anakin’s waist, Obi-Wan nodded.

“Yes, I no longer use suppressants,” he blindly reached for Anakin’s hand and twined their fingers. “Anakin, this is my gift to you.”

Anakin took a step back, frowning. Obi-Wan almost fell again and held onto a piece of black fabric.

“What?” Anakin breathed.

Anakin towered over him, his broad muscles almost covering him completely, crowding him against the wall.

Despite the position, a position that should be threatening, highlighting how much smaller he was, Obi-Wan only felt a throbbing between his legs.

He kissed him, tugging at the unruly blond curls to get him closer. Anakin hoisted him in his arms, his hands on the back of his thighs. The fast and primal action made Obi-Wan whimper.

Anakin broke the kiss with a low growl, and he almost dropped him.

“Obi-Wan, you’re naked, what…” Anakin sniffed at his neck once more, “explain yourself, now.”

Marveling at how good being in Anakin’s arms felt, Obi-Wan signaled to his room with his head.

“To my nest.”

Anakin stared at him, so Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

“Nest,” repeated Anakin, but obeyed. He walked the few steps that separated them from the entrance to Obi-Wan’s room and deposited him at the foot of the bed.

He stared, but this time at the blue blankets, at the collection of pillows and fabrics. His gaze went back to Obi-Wan’s half-naked body.

“You want…”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan grabbed him by the hand again. “I want to mate with you, today. I am ready, I want you, I want us.” He squeezed harder. “You’ve brought me so much joy already and this is my gift to you.”

Anakin’s eyes started shining with tears. Obi-Wan brought the hand to cover his mating gland.

“My body,” he slid it down to his chest, “my heart,” down until it reached his lower stomach. “My life.”

He waited, his body thrumming with excitement. Anakin remained frozen, but Obi-Wan felt the sheer tumult of emotions through the bond.

“That nest,” Obi-Wan swallowed, “is for us. I want you to take me there and bite me.” He walked until he kissed Anakin’s neck. “Make me your mate, Alpha.”

Obi-Wan didn’t have time to wonder where such sentimental words had come from, in a second, Anakin had him pinned by the arms and on his stomach, inside the nest.

The display of strength had its desired effect; he began to pant, his body warming up, his hole filling with slick.

“You want me to bite you, Omega?”

Anakin’s growl was different this time, and a pulse of possessiveness echoed in their bond, their minds.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan rutted against the bed until his tunic lifted and revealed the extent of his nakedness. “Anakin, yes.”

The pressure on his arms was gone and then Anakin tore the tunic to ribbons with his hands, leaving Obi-Wan completely naked on his nest.

He didn’t complain, not when the sound of the fabric tearing accompanied by the growl only made his erection grow.

“You and your obsession with destroying my clothes.”

“You like it,” Anakin’s hand sneaked between his legs and Obi-Wan opened them wider, arching his back slightly.

Anakin’s touch felt heavy, comforting. It felt right, to be finally bare to the one he had chosen as mate.

A warm pad circled his hole, spreading and gathering the slick he kept producing.

Obi-Wan sighed, shifting on the nest and trying to get it in him. He was already more slicked than he had ever been in his whole life, his body more than willing to be taken, his heart more than ready to be one with Anakin.

The pad pushed carefully into him, and then it was gone.

Obi-Wan whined, turning his head just in time to see Anakin suck at his shiny thumb, tasting him for the first time.

Even in the relative darkness of the room, he saw when Anakin’s pupils dilated, when the Alpha took in his taste; the taste of an aroused and fertile Omega.

Anakin tore at his own clothes, hopping on one foot to remove his boots. Obi-Wan would’ve laughed if he hadn’t been so desperate too, seeking the friction of the blanket for his cock.

He hid his face on his arms, waiting, shivering anticipation. Different pieces of fabric dropped to the floor, Anakin cursing softly to himself.

“Better,” the mattress shifted, Anakin landing on his back next to him, outside of the nest.

Obi-Wan blinked, confused. A short whine escaped his throat when he took in Anakin’s naked body.

He knew of their differences, of how hard Anakin worked to have a chiselled and toned body. But now the hard panes of Anakin’s chest were right next to him, the sharp and clearly defined lines of him.

Now he could touch, to go further than just looking.

Anakin put his hands under his head and grinned. “Look all you want.”

“And keep encouraging your vanity?” Obi-Wan asked, as one of his hand strayed closer to him. Anakin’s skin was warm, darker than his, all muscle and sinew.

“What’s wrong with being perfect like I am?” Anakin kept grinning.

Obi-Wan carefully raked his nails down the place where stomach ended and cock began. Anakin trembled under his hand and he wondered, past his haze of arousal, how they would ever fit, when Anakin was so big.

“We’ll fit,” replied Anakin in a whisper, his eyes shining. Had he read his mind? Or was his worry so obvious? “you were made for me. We were made for each other.”

Obi-Wan nodded, feeling more slick come out to prepare him for what came next.

Anakin grabbed a pillow from the nest and placed it under his head. “Come here.”

Reluctant to leave his nest, Obi-Wan moved until he was straddling him. It wasn’t how he had imagined their first time.

“No,” Anakin fluffed the pillow, “come here. Sit on my face.”

“What?” Obi-Wan nearly shouted the word and he cleared his throat. “What?” he tried again in a softer tone.

“You heard me,” Anakin extended his neck, “I want to taste you again.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan huffed, ignoring how he was all but leaking on top of him, “no, I could break your neck or worse.”

“I will happily die between your legs,” Anakin grinned, tugging him by the thighs, “Obi-Wan, I thought I was the irrational one. I need your slick, Omega, please.”

Anakin did look desperate, so Obi-Wan moved on his knees until he bracketed Anakin’s face between his legs.

The way Anakin stared at his hard cock and leaking entrance made him blush.

“Are you sure…” he trailed off when Anakin pressed down on his thighs, making him sit on top of him.

Obi-Wan lost his balance and clung to the headboard. Looking down, he barely saw a forehead, a mass of dark blond curls.

He tried not to let his entire weight fall on top of him, but two insistent hands kept pushing his hips, inviting him to come down.

Warm puffs of air hit his dripping entrance, each exhale making him shiver.

He was going to choke him, suffocate his mate, and how was he going to explain then what had happened to the Chosen One?

Anakin made a muffled sound and then a wet and warm tongue started licking at the edges of his hole.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan clung with all his strength to the headboard, his knuckles turning white. This was beyond his dreams, beyond his imagination.

Without realizing it, he moved his hips in circles, making the tongue enter him completely.

Anakin hummed and Obi-Wan nearly wept when the sound travelled straight to his cock, when it made more slick come out and land in Anakin’s mouth.

He used a shaky arm to stroke himself, his pre-cum falling and getting lost amongst his mate’s hair.

The tongue rubbed at his walls, it went in and out without a real rhythm; Anakin eating him out as if his life depended on it.

“Anakin, Alpha,” Obi-Wan’s thighs tensed, trembling with the effort of containing himself, of trying not to come. He stopped touching his cock, wanting to make it last.

They had not even mated yet, not even entered the nest.

Anakin mumbled something and pushed him up, spreading him wider just to circle his entrance with his mouth and suck, making a loud slurping sound.

Obi-Wan’s moan was so long and deep he didn’t register it was him that had made that sound until later. Anakin gently moved him so he could rest on his collarbone instead.

Anakin said nothing, his expression completely blissed out, his mouth and chin shiny with spit and slick. His hair was a mess of sweat and pre-cum.

Obi-Wan was no different, both their bodies a complete mess of fluids.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan felt tears leak from his eyes, “you… I love you.”

Eyes shining, Anakin gave an almost sleepy smile, his tongue darting out to taste whatever remained of Obi-Wan on his lips.

“I would’ve done this a lot sooner just to hear those words,” he patted Obi-Wan’s thighs, “nest. Now.”

Obi-Wan let his weight drop to a side and rolled until he was in the safety of the blanket, his sweaty back staining the place. His cock was so hard he knew he wouldn’t last much, his hole so opened that he knew he didn’t need any more preparation.

Anakin went after him, a slight swelling at the base of his cock. It jutted out stiff and swollen, and Obi-Wan felt rather proud that he had done that without even touching him.

He tried to roll again, his body telling him to show off his hole and arch his back, but Anakin quickly grabbed his thighs, pulling them around his waist.

“Want to see you,” he mumbled, a soft rumble escaping from him. He leaned until they were kissing, and Obi-Wan could savor his own slick.

He tangled his fingers on Anakin’s hair, trying to tame it, carefully pulling at it. His cock kept brushing Anakin’s hard chest.

“Please,” he mumbled between kisses, “please, Alpha.”

The bond hummed, vibrating with the wave of emotions Anakin sent unconsciously; the love and arousal and that hint of possessiveness that he had always had for him.

Anakin dipped his head to lick at his mating gland, to suck gently at his throat.

“Anakin, I’m serious,” Obi-Wan pulled at a piece of hair, “Alpha.”

Anakin looked at him, looking every bit like an unhinged and feral Alpha. Yet when he positioned himself and pushed into him, he was gentle, giving him time to adjust to his length.

Obi-Wan moved his arms until they were around his mate’s neck, whimpering when he felt his tight muscles being stretched. An Alpha’s cock was completely different from a tongue, but he welcomed it.

“Good?” Anakin nuzzled at the back of his ear, placing a kiss there. He had both arms on either side of Obi-Wan’s head, staring at him and his reactions.

“Yes, yes,” Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut, the cock entering him fully. He had never felt fuller or so opened.

“You’re sure?” Anakin’s gaze roamed over his face, searching for something. “I can pull out.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Obi-Wan tried to glare at him, but he knew his face was bright red and that the effect was lost.

He wasn’t in pain, just unused to the sensation. He kissed him one last time, tasting his own slick.

 _Move_ , he sent through the bond.

All gentleness vanished from Anakin and he started moving, hammering into him as if he wanted to make him one with the blanket and the mattress.

The knot bumped into his entrance with each thrust, trying to get in and lock them together. Obi-Wan found himself moaning and moving his own hips, his eyelids fluttering in pleasure.

Anakin’s deep groans reached his ears and he felt like crying again, not knowing if the effect of the suppressants had vanished so fast or if it was just his own joy at having Anakin like this, of almost being mated.

Anakin nuzzled over and over at his neck, keeping a steady in and out. Obi-Wan knew what was coming and bared his neck, inviting him to bite.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin’s voice was ragged, his breath hot against his neck, and he dug his hand into one of the thighs around him, tugging him closer, “I love you.”

“I know you do,” he had ignored the signs for a long time, but now he couldn’t anymore. Anakin, for some strange and marvelous reason, wanted him, _loved_ him.

Obi-Wan freed a hand to stroke himself at the same time Anakin moved in and out of him. The Alpha’s cock glided effortlessly; he was so slicked he didn’t know how the knot hadn’t entered yet.

He came in his own hand with a sharp whine when he felt Anakin bit his shoulder with enough strength to leave a mark.

Unable to form words, Obi-Wan slapped his sticky hand on Anakin’s cheek and near his mouth, staining his mate.

Anakin grinned at him, trying to grab some with his tongue.

“First your slick, now your cum? It’s my lucky day.”

Obi-Wan smiled, trembling because Anakin kept moving. He was about to mate with the silliest Alpha in the galaxy, the only person that had ever truly mattered to him.

“I love you,” he repeated softly, the words freeing him.

Anakin stilled and looked at him in the eyes.

“Obi-Wan, my mate, my Omega,” his gaze went to the place that Obi-Wan had expected to be bitten at for long, “I…”

“I know,” replied Obi-Wan. The pleasure assaulted him from different directions, and the knot rested just outside of him. He offered his neck one final time. “Bite, Alpha.”

Anakin threw himself on top of him and sank his teeth into the sensitive flesh that marked his unmated status.

Obi-Wan’s body lifted itself from the bed and he almost screamed, Anakin driving his hips forward and knotting inside of him.

His body was now full in a different way, the cum travelling to his womb, flooding his lower belly. Obi-Wan whimpered, sobbing quietly, Anakin’s teeth still biting into him.

He felt the cut, the blood escape, the pain of it. But he also felt something deeper, he felt _Anakin_ , Anakin’s presence envelope him in a primal and irradicable way.

“Omega,” Anakin growled, licking at the edges of the wound carefully. “Mine.”

Obi-Wan could no longer speak, only nod, his body and heart dazed.

Anakin seemed pleased by his reaction and resumed healing the wound with his saliva. Even now his body seemed less tense, his growl low and soothing, soothing his mate.

_Mate._

Obi-Wan breathed deep. He was now, officially, mated.

Anakin sniffed at his neck, giving one final lick at the bite.

“I feel…” he mumbled. “I feel at peace, Obi-Wan,” his blue eyes shone with tears, and he looked almost undone, “it’s quiet here, being inside of you, having you. I don’t know… it’s as if, I spent all my life looking for something and now I’ve found it and—”

Obi-Wan kissed him or tried to. His head seemed determined to remain glued to the pillow, his skin still tingling. The knot remained hard and firm in him, sending wave after wave of cum.

“I understand,” he said quietly, wiping at the corners of Anakin’s eyes. “I understand, dear one.”

He felt it as well, the quietness, one that didn’t come from meditation but from mating; of being joined with someone who was his other half in every way.

Anakin nuzzled at the palm touching him, smiling softly.

“You look like a mess,” Obi-Wan added. His mate had dried fluids of all sorts on him.

“I don’t mind, it’s yours,” Anakin kissed him again and then let his weight drop on top of him, covering him. Obi-Wan hugged him, closing his eyes.

Anakin’s nose, as usual, went to Obi-Wan’s neck. Except now his touch was gentle, the sounds he made quieter.

“You smell like me now,” he whispered, licking the mating bite, “now you’ll always smell like me, because you’re mine.”

Obi-Wan hummed in agreement, the knot pulsing inside of him. A warm hand got between their bodies, squeezing his lower stomach.

“Do you think you could be pregnant already?” Anakin asked lightly.

“No.”

“Why not? I’m knotting you. I have a lot of cum.”

Obi-Wan laughed. He had indeed mated with the silliest Alpha.

“That’s not how it works,” he replied, though he decided that perhaps the idea of getting pregnant at that moment wasn’t a bad one.

“How do you know?” asked Anakin after a while, moving his hand in circles. There was the slightest swelling, all due to his cum. “You’ve never been pregnant before.”

Obi-Wan opened one eye. Anakin’s tone was light, but his face was serious.

“Did you read it in a book?” Anakin insisted.

“No, but everyo—”

“Then you could be pregnant already. Maybe you are,” he squeezed harder, his eyes shining but not with tears anymore.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan wanted to explain to him how pregnancies worked but when he saw Anakin’s hopeful expression, he relented. Knowing Anakin, and how powerful he was, he probably _was_ pregnant already.

The idea made him smile, and he joined Anakin’s hand with his.

“Maybe I am pregnant,” he said quietly.

Anakin beamed and he rode his hips up, somehow making the knot move deeper into him.

Obi-Wan had to bite his lip not to whimper.

“I’ll be the best dad,” Anakin promised, “give you the healthiest, and happiest little pups. Two dozen little babies with red hair and…”

“Two dozen,” Obi-Wan repeated.

“…you can hug them all, always a baby in your arms.”

Obi-Wan stared at him. “Finished?”

“I have more ideas,” Anakin shrugged, “but basically, yeah.” His eyes went wide, and he bared his neck. “Wait, bite me too.”

Obi-Wan looked at the unmarked skin and then at Anakin’s face. Biting an Alpha, biting his mate.

“Yes,” he whispered, and kissed him there, on the sensitive gland he never thought he would bite.

He did it faster than Anakin, sinking his teeth until they broke the skin and the bond that had been created only strengthened.

Anakin seemed to be in no pain, it only made him cum harder inside of him. Obi-Wan kissed the wound, at his mate.

His Alpha was speechless, still holding onto him and his lower stomach with shock in his face, as if he couldn’t believe everything that had happened in the past hour.

They both clearly needed some rest. Obi-Wan wiggled on the nest until he was on his side, Anakin wrapped around him.

Obi-Wan tugged him gently by the back of his neck until his lips grazed Anakin’s.

“Hold me while the knot lasts, Alpha,” he said, Anakin’s warm breath hitting him, “and then, you can tell me more about your ideas for our life.”

The reply was only but a pulse of love and joy on their bond, Anakin hiding his face on his chest with a smile.

+1.

They stood side by side, holding hands, and staring at the top of the snow-peaked mountains.

The sky was a deep orange color, the blue struggling to appear. The morning sunrise cast everything in a soft glow.

Even far away from the mountains and far from where it snowed, it was early morning, and it meant the temperature was still cold.

Obi-Wan tugged at his tunic –Anakin’s black tunic, actually— closer to him, his mate rubbing at his arm for warmth.

“Did you know that I could record this instead of freezing out here?” Anakin asked casually.

They were at the edge of the state, the sun slowly rising over the mountains of Alderaan. It would be another perfect sunny day, just like every single one they had experienced for over three standard months.

“Would you change a holorecording for this?” Obi-Wan asked without looking away from the horizon.

“No,” Anakin admitted, tugging him close by the waist, “but you’ve been waking up early for the past…”

Anakin went silent and Obi-Wan lifted his chin higher, taking in the sun that had risen between two peaks. He would never get tired of this, of being in nature and enjoying the pretty colors of the sky, when it was so early not even birds chirped.

He blinked against the soft light, turning to smile at him.

Anakin’s hair seemed molten ore under the morning sunlight, his features still sleepy and relaxed.

“No recordings can compare to the real thing,” Obi-Wan smiled, wiggling his toes inside the soft boots he wore.

“Agreed, but,” Anakin grabbed a tiny wicker basket from the floor, “you’ve been waking up early and running off here every morning.”

“So now it’s my fault?” Obi-Wan feigned hurt, moving both hands to cradle his bump, “it’s not my fault the pup craves berries.”

“Right, now it’s the pup’s fault,” Anakin snorted, but his expression turned softer, as it always did, when he saw Obi-Wan’s round pregnant stomach. “They force you to wake up early.”

Even though his second trimester had just started, he was clearly and undeniably, pregnant.

“They do,” Obi-Wan caressed his bump through the soft shirt he wore. He smiled again. “And my craving isn’t fulfilled yet.”

Anakin gave a small yawn and offered his hand, leading him to the vineyard.

They had decided, after simultaneously renouncing from the Order, to take a year off to rest and relax. To adjust to their new life as a mated couple, not a pair of warriors on high alert.

Unsurprisingly, Obi-Wan had quickly gotten pregnant. Surprisingly, he had wept with happiness when he had found out.

Anakin walked them past the grapevines, to the furthest side of the orchard where only just a week earlier, they had found blueberry bushes.

The vineyard was so big they still had not seen it all, especially when Anakin insisted that Obi-Wan should not walk much. The place had been found by Bail, who had reassured them no one would bother them for the rest of the year.

Obi-Wan knew that their visit would most likely extend for over a year.

They had to walk along the long rows, through fields of grapes of different colors until they found it.

Obi-Wan let him go, just to touch a plump blue berry with his fingertip.

Anakin examined the brush, squinting.

“These look good,” he said, and started to handpick them, throwing them into the basket.

The sun had moved to where they stood, and Obi-Wan tipped his head up, touching his belly.

Their life now was unhurried, soft mornings of kisses and breakfast in bed, and then not doing much except walk among nature and stare at the landscape.

Anakin had quickly adapted, and even though Obi-Wan missed more populated areas, he knew the importance of taking some time off. Especially now that he was pregnant.

“Try not to destroy the bushes,” he said, seeing Anakin tug at them with all his strength.

“I know,” Anakin quickly filled the basket and placed it under his arm, offering his hand again.

They walked slowly, enjoying the sun and the view of the mountains at the distance.

“We need to remove the leaves, and wash them,” Obi-Wan said, when the two-floor house they were staying in appeared.

It had been small according to what they had read, but their size was bigger when they arrived. The entire place was surrounded by trees and most walls were transparent, so regardless of the room, one could see and enjoy the view.

“I’ll do it,” Anakin signaled to the two outdoor chaise lounges, cushioned with soft white fabric. One of them had a familiar blue blanket. “Sit and I’ll bring them to you.”

Obi-Wan stood on the tip of his toes, just to give him a deep kiss, vanishing all trace of sleepiness from his mate.

He sat, kneading at the blanket and arranging the pillows. His back hurt sometimes, and he had started adding pillows to any sort of seat he used.

He rested on the chaise, stretching his legs, and closing his eyes. The sun shone brighter now, and he lifted his shirt, so the baby could feel it too.

“This is nice,” he commented to their pup. He placed an arm over his eyes, the other touching his bare skin that quickly warmed up.

Every day was nice, every moment with Anakin was nice. It was still weird, to have a life in which his only concern was the lack of berries, or why his arousal never faded even though he got knotted frequently.

Obi-Wan moved his hand in circles, almost picturing the tiny baby growing inside of him. He sighed, opening his tunic wider.

A quiet shuffling approached and the sun warming his face vanished. He opened his eyes, using a hand to shield them and try to make out what was blocking the sunlight.

Anakin was beaming at him, a bowl in his hands. And completely naked from the waist up.

“I… fell asleep, didn’t I,” Obi-Wan huffed, noticing the slight change position of the sun, how the sky was completely blue now, birds chirping softly on the nearby trees. The world was now awake, and he had slept again.

“Yep,” Anakin almost jumped on the chaise next to him, bending to give the bump a loud kiss. Their arms touched; Anakin’s skin as warm as his. “You looked relaxed.”

“I was,” Obi-Wan blinked, trying to clear his mind. He looked down, at his round belly framed with the black robe. His mate looked at it with nothing but love, loving seeing him so big and pregnant.

It wasn’t the first time he had fallen asleep outside, soaking up the sun and cradling his bump. He knew that sometimes his mate just stood there, watching him sleep covered by his own clothes.

 _Why can’t I admire my sleepy pregnant Omega?_ he would say with a smile. _My mate who is carrying my pup._

Anakin rummaged on the bowl and grabbed a handful of berries, offering them to Obi-Wan.

“Grab less, you’re supposed to enjoy each one,” Obi-Wan snatched the bowl from his hands and grabbed one tiny rounded blueberry amongst many, placing it on Anakin’s lips.

Anakin gave him a look and Obi-Wan pushed it past his lips, his fingers being captured and then gently nipped.

Obi-Wan smiled, shifting so he could almost lay on top of him. He grabbed more, placing each on Anakin’s mouth; his fingers wet with the juice that burst every time his mate chewed.

“I thought you were the one with the craving,” Anakin rasped out, licking at the edges of his mouth. He tugged him closer, until Obi-Wan sat sideways on his lap.

“You’re right,” Obi-Wan opened his mouth just in time to receive two, the berries popping and filling his mouth with a sweet, juicy flavor.

Since they had discovered the bushes, his body, his pup, had craved the fruit. His Alpha had no problems in providing them for him, but he did complain about why the cravings appear so early that it forced them both out of bed.

Anakin covered his bump with his warm hand and placed a handful of berries on his mouth, kissing him. Obi-Wan whimpered softly when Anakin bit, the juice spilling from both their mouths.

His beard dampened, sticky with squirts of berry and their saliva.

 _You taste sweeter than this fruit_ , Anakin said through the bond, caressing the place where the pup grew.

Shivering, Obi-Wan pulled away, blinded for a moment by the sun when he opened his eyes. Anakin’s jaw and neck had thin trails of juice.

“I’m guessing you didn’t bring anything to clean us?” Obi-Wan asked, licking his lips.

“No, you know how I prefer to clean you,” as if he knew his thoughts, Anakin rested his head on the padded seat, showing the mess they had both created.

“Stay still, then,” Obi-Wan said, pushing by him the shoulders and taking a deep breath.

He was hit by Anakin’s scent, completely unrestricted. The same scent that had clung to him for years, shielding him, marking him.

He almost massaged the broad shoulders he was holding onto, Anakin smiling softly at him, eyes half-lidded. His hand never stopped protectively covering the round belly.

His mate. His Alpha. The father of his pup.

Perhaps he could mark him as well, and not just with the mating bite.

Obi-Wan moved his head closer, chasing down the sticky fluid on his mate’s body with the flat of his tongue.

Anakin shuddered, tightening his grip on him. Obi-Wan found that the skin was warm, kissed by the sun and tasting like something uniquely Anakin.

He cleaned the juice on the neck with little sucks, pleased that despite all the different scent combinations, Anakin also smelled like _him_. A mated and happy Alpha.

“I thought…” Anakin tried to say but ended up growling when Obi-Wan licked at the edges of his jaw.

 _I thought this kind of thing was uncivilized for you_ , he sent.

Obi-Wan placed more blueberries into his mouth and bit down. The batch his mate had collected was ripe, perfect.

“I suppose that after so many years of seeing you do it, I learned it from you,” Obi-Wan smiled, wiping a spot over Anakin’s neck he had missed with his thumb.

Anakin grinned. “I can teach the pup too.”

Obi-Wan shuffled closer, into his Alpha’s embrace. He nuzzled at his warmed cheek.

“Two people trailing after me? Trying to touch me and my clothes?”

“Of course,” Anakin opened his mouth just in time to receive more berries. “So they can protect you too.”

Obi-Wan huffed, yet the idea made him smile.

He could easily imagine it, Anakin with a baby on his lap and explaining them how to best scent mark their mom for protection.

“Babies instinctively know how to do it,” Anakin moved his nose up and down Obi-Wan’s neck, breathing in. “But I can teach them a few tricks. I have so many ideas, so many things I can teach them.”

Obi-Wan rested his head on Anakin’s shoulder, the hand still covering his belly. It was a nice day, after all, and the bowl still had many berries waiting to be eaten.

He lazily picked up more and chewed them carefully.

“Tell me more about your ideas,” he said, staring at the distant mountains one final time, turning his head to kiss his mate’s bite.


End file.
